


Love Me

by AlexisGreen



Category: Muse
Genre: AU, Belldom - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 18:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexisGreen/pseuds/AlexisGreen





	1. Chapter 1

“Fucking Health and Safety,” he fumed, gritted teeth bared at anyone who dared smile at him. The maze of scaffolding in the backstage area would have intimidated most people, even without the tens of technicians, engineers, reporters and organizers all running around looking important. He was beyond angry though. He zoned in on the short, stocky and unfortunate man, without a second’s warning. “Don’t they fucking know who I fucking am? Don’t these cunts know who they’re cutting off?”

The tour manager almost whimpered in front of him. “Matthew, be reasonable…”

“This is our only fucking festival appearance before we go into the studio to record for months. Who knows when we’re coming back here? Do they know this, Martin?” He jabbed his finger in the manager’s chest, until the guy wobbled on his feet. “Did you make sure they fucking know this?”

“I tried, Matthew, you know I tried. I argued with them all week about it. They refused, said the insurance company does not protect against the property damage that would result if your stunt went wrong. They asked you to be rea…”

“If you’re gonna say reasonable one more time, Martin,” the singer grabbed him by the crew badge hanging around his neck before the sentence was finished, his voice carrying to most people in their vicinity, “your ass will be fired faster than you can say nightmare. I am fucking Matthew Bellamy, man! I’m not reason-fucking-able!”

Matt let go of the man, not even dignifying him with another look. He left the area swiftly, conserving his energy for matters he did have a saying in. His trailer had been set up in the VIP area, as close to the stage as possible. That should have been the first clue that things would go horribly wrong tonight; a trailer, for God’s sake? Matthew Bellamy stayed only in the best hotels in the world, and these fucking puppets had given him a trailer! He stumbled towards it, to finish dressing up for their one-hour slot on the main stage, cursing the festival organizers for not giving him the headline, the health and safety department for killing off his grand entrance, his manager for booking this sorry-ass festival in the first place, and God, just because he felt like it.

Fifty minutes later, backstage, Matt worked the knots in his muscles, stretching to get his body warmed up for their set. He ignored the excessively effusive smile of the technician who fitted his custom-made monitor, and he waved her off to insert the in-ear headphones himself. Even so rudely dismissed, the girl continued to grin towards him, tripping over a couple of cables as she moved on to his bassist, Chris. He rolled his eyes as Chris made the universally known sign for blow jobs while she fiddled with his equipment, oblivious to their exchange. Chris could go after her, if he wanted; he wasn’t in the mood to have fun just yet. Later, maybe.

Impatience washed over him, as yet another five minutes of their set were wasted because the organizers were late to announce them on stage. Those minutes shouldn’t have counted so much, but he needed them like a breath of fresh air. He needed them because being in front of thousands of people, soaking in their attention, hearing their voices sing alongside his had become his greatest addiction. He’d gotten rid of the need to escape reality through hallucinogenics years ago; he’d even kicked off his addiction to alcohol, after he realized he just swapped vices ever since he’d become famous. But performing live? No, he could never give up the thrill of watching a full arena from his vantage point on stage, or the spread of the crowd on an otherwise empty field, give up the feeling of ruling over the mass of people at his feet.

Black Wayfarers in place, Matt took his usual place at the top of the stairs, mid-stage. A deep breath, and he opened his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings. The rest of the band was already in position, waiting for his signal. He didn’t pay much attention to them; none of them, including himself, mattered during those few precious moments. Everyone who mattered was out there, behind the barriers, a thousand-headed creature ready to take him to new heights or squash him in a nanosecond.

For a heartbeat, he ruefully admitted to himself that the sunset painting the sky in orange and pink hues made for a beautiful setting, even if they were the second headliner on the bill. Matt’s thoughts refocused on the waiting fans quickly though. He pointed towards them, taking the stairs two at a time, and screamed. "Are you ready?"

Drum beats were soon echoed by the claps of the crowd, as the band launched into one of their early singles, one of the first songs to give them more significant airplay with radio stations. The song reminded him of their first live performances, when he used to spend most of the time playing guitar and singing mostly in one place on the stage. Soon after, his demeanor changed. Although he still wrote and recorded the parts for the albums, Matt had stopped hiding behind his guitar, behind the stand microphone while on stage. These were nothing more than props, there to distract him from the important things. No, what he wanted was to be as close to the crowd as possible, to be in touch with the vibes given away by the audience no matter how large or small. This right here was where he always wanted to be.

Returning fully into the present, Matt rocked back and forth, his foot propped against one of the speakers. Hundreds of women screamed at the suggestive movement of his hips, and he smirked. That was the effect he was hoping for. He’d rehearsed his moves plenty of times to know what he did to his fans, when he pumped the air like that. The singer backed off, bouncing on the balls of his feet, moving towards centre stage. As he bent over the microphone, a roar rumbled from deep in his chest, as he encouraged the crowd to join in.

"More, more, more!" They chanted and jumped in response, the voices covering his for several moments, finishing the lyrics for him. "More, more, more!" He grinned back to them; tonight, for sixty minutes, he was God, and he had all of them at his fingertips. The crowd sang when he told them to, cheered when he so much as pointed a finger at them, ripped their t-shirts when he licked his lips with a lewd expression on his face. He owned all of them right then.

He finished the song with a long knee slide across the stage. The tight leather of his trousers hugged him even closer in that position and applied just enough pressure between his legs to arouse him. Fresh cheers erupted from the fans, travelling through the air towards him, but soon, too soon, before he had a chance to enjoy the sensation of the collective sound to the fullest, it was drowned by the opening chords of the next song.

Matt shot up straight, running towards one of the raised platforms to the sides of the stage. His fingers found the lever clasp which kept his black coat wrapped around his body, and deftly opened it. The long coat fell away behind him to reveal the vest he wore underneath. His stylist had chosen it for the concert on purpose; the sides had been cut off almost completely, leaving his long arms bare. The neckline plunged deeper than it should have been decent for a man, but he’d requested the adjustment himself. His plectrum necklace slapped against his skin with each bounce. A tight black skirt, donned on top of his leather skinnies, and short fingerless gloves completed his ensemble.

The reaction he received was instantaneous, a gasp, followed by wolfish whistles; his torso was now visible with each lift of his arms, with each stretch and turn. His nipples hardened as the early evening air brushed over his skin. He wasn’t cold though. Beyond the heat of the lights and the adrenaline of the performance, he felt the burn of thousand eyes over his skin and smiled in ecstasy. His voice did not miss a beat, well rehearsed in live performances, hitting the falsetto perfectly. His fingers gripped the microphone, believing every word of the song, dripping with lust, as he crooned. "One day, you’ll love me / One day, you’ll only love me, no one else."

The corner of his eye caught the exact moment a young girl, perched on the shoulders of another fan, took off her bra and threw it at him. She was too far to succeed, of course; her tits were too large for his tastes anyway. It got the crowd going nevertheless, a shameless display matching his earlier strip tease on stage. Matt ran back towards the main stage area and onto the short catwalk built into the gap between stage and barriers.

"Put your hands up if you’re seeing Favorite Nightmare for the first time tonight!' he shouted. His grin grew wider when a sea of hands shot up, enthusiastic about interacting with him, with Matt Bellamy.

"Put your hands up if you’ll come see us again?' he shouted again, his voice clear, carrying through to reach the edges of the crowd. A roar accompanied the response from the fans this time, hands waving for the cameras which swept in for close shots.

Behind him, the bass rang the first chords of their current hit, played across all Europe, America and Asia; Matt sang, wind on his face, last rays of sun giving way to nightfall in the horizon.

With one final high note, Matt swooped down the stairs, and off the stage. He enjoyed the surprise on the faces in the front rows, he couldn’t see anything beyond that. With the agility of an act performed tens of times, he sprinted, pivoted up the barrier and jumped into the crowd. The hungry mass of people swallowed him whole for seconds, and the singer allowed all thoughts of safety and insurance policies to slip from his mind, as he gave into his momentary hedonism. Unknown hands touched, and pulled and caressed him, slipping inside his vest, running through his hair, awakening sensations which craved to be brought to surface.

The desire of so many strangers had always pushed him into reckless things, but his stage dives and crowd surfs were no longer surprises for his security entourage. He could almost time the precise moment the crowd would get too rough and his bodyguards would pull him out.

He only realized his vest had been ripped apart when he was back on his feet behind the barrier. Matt broke into a fevered laugh; he hadn’t expected the flimsy garment to last, although it was during the next few dives that he usually started to lose his clothes. With a quick flick of the wrist, he tore what remained of the material off, and turned back to face the fans, eyeing up the possibilities.

A pair of grey eyes twinkled at him at his right hand side, muscular, tanned arms stretched out towards him. He couldn’t make out a voice through the tumult, but he looked closer, instead of returning to the stage. He found a perfect smile, lush lips, dimpled cheeks, a blond boy? man? watching him ecstatically. Without hesitation, Matt balled up his vest and threw it towards him.

The next songs beckoned him back on the microphone, and he tore through hit after hit, his chest exposed completely to the crowd, sweat glistening all along his arms. He was the director and the crowd his orchestra; the sing-alongs were probably heard as far back as the campsites.

Twirling around on stage to the rhythm of the music, he caught sight of himself on the screen behind the stage, face flushed with exertion, make up slightly runny and shimmering down to his cheekbones. He liked that look, his blue eyes highlighted by heavy eyeliner. It fuelled his exhibitionist streak. He looked just like he did after getting fucked, and perhaps on some weird personal level, that was exactly why he enjoyed performing so much; it gave him an opportunity to feel adored, and wanted, anytime, anyhow.

He wondered if the boy in the crowd saw the same thing looking at him. Was that why he’d made the barrier that day, waited through rain and sunshine, braved the mud? Was it the music, the lyrics or the rock star himself he was there for? Matt circled back to the place he’d spotted him, recognizing him with ease; the boy was waving the vest back to him, the black material visible in the spotlights, his lips mouthing lyrics along to the music.

The end of the song marked the mid of their set, and Matt wondered if he could afford to shake things up a bit, to move away from the regular staging of their shows and do something special for the crowd. He eased himself down to perch on the edge of the first stair, his elbows on his knees. The band, in tune with his moods on stage, used the opportunity to grab a drink, and one of the stagehands brought Matt a bottle of water, retreating as quickly as his feet could carry him. The singer didn’t bother to thank him; he was too busy angling his body towards the boy in the front row.

"We’re doing something different with this next song!' He announced to the crowd. Behind him, Nick, the drummer, sneered. Matt ignored him – there was enough attention from the crowd to go around – and waved towards the keyboard player, shouting. "Number 7. Go slow."

Closing his eyes, he let the haunting opening channel emotions he otherwise found difficult to experience on stage. His head tipped back, neck extended until the wet strands of hair sent beads of sweat dripping down the curve of his spine, he’d come so far from being just another small town boy with a passion for music. But on nights like these, when his temper battled with his craving for worship, insecurity and loneliness wormed their way in, reminding him that there was still a long way to go until he’d feel complete. Matt sang the beautiful lyrics slower than the usual album version, pausing often to let the fans repeat some of them for effect.

The song finished and he still had his eyes closed, the audience quieting for several moments, before exploding into applause. The trance was broken, and through heavy-lidded eyes, he surveyed the mass of fans in front of him. His sight landed on the boy, and his stomach did a double flip, the tenderness replaced with hunger in less time than it took his brain to process the image and its implications.

Just twenty feet away, the object of his attention clutched Matt’s vest to his face, breathing into the material. Visible above the fabric, the grey eyes which sparkled at him were not innocent at all. Quite the opposite, in fact, and a shiver worked its way through Matt’s body, leaving him tingling with want.

His energy returned, and he leapt up to his feet, taking centre stage again. Blood boiling, adrenaline sky high, he raised his arms and started clapping, the drums and the bass joining in. He felt less of a god and more of a demon, as the feeling of being wanted fed his addiction. His own hands ran through his hair, touching his neck, fluttering along his chest. He didn’t go as far as thumbing his own nipples in front of sixty thousand people, but he could taste his arousal on his tongue, bitter sweet and tantalizing. Each time he looked into the crowd, he saw the same rapture on their faces, and it spurred him on. The hits kept on pouring, the crowd becoming wilder and wilder, mosh pits breaking out every few minutes, fans getting dragged out of the mayhem more and more frequently.

Screaming into the microphone, Matt ran down the stairs one last time and headed for the barriers. Instead of another dive, he climbed on top of the barrier, his knees resting on the shoulders of the people in the front rows.

"This is our last song!' he announced, voice choppy with excitement. "I wanna see some of you up there on stage with us, to see us out in style!'

'Come on, who wants to be on stage?' Matt laughed at the disbelief on the fans’ faces. "Yeah you, come on up, and you. Get those people up there,' he gestured towards security. 'And those people over there.' He jumped off the rail before he fell into the crowd, and shook hands with the tens of people reaching out for a touch.

As if he hadn’t planned it in his mind already, he added, finally pointing towards the boy. 'And you, do you want to be up there for this last song?' An enthusiastic nod in return, and Matt grinned in response. He clapped his bodyguard on the shoulder. 'Bring him up, come on!'

Back behind the microphone stand, Matt stopped his frantic fidgeting, to watch the blond boy scramble up on stage. Yellow neon skinny jeans and a black t-shirt, slim and lean, with a gorgeous sun-kissed skin, and still hanging on to Matt’s vest for dear life, he looked out of sorts for about thirty seconds, until he caught the singer staring. The beautiful smile Matt had noticed in the first place morphed into a full blown beam.

The singer waved him closer, until the boy stood next to him. 'You already have a souvenir from me. Do you want to make this even more memorable?'


	2. Chapter 2

The reflection in the mirror told him he looked good. No, not good; great! He hadn’t seen the inside of a gym for years, but the live performances turned out to be better than any workout he could have gotten. He used to hate his bony frame, but not anymore; the angles of his body were graceful and no longer awkward. The thought of a different body, a little taller, a bit more tanned, and a lot more tempting right then, cut short his moment of self indulgence. He couldn’t help congratulating himself for how well things had turned out during that last song.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

He strutted even more proudly on stage as those big, grey eyes roved over each inch of his skin, minute after minute. It wasn’t enough for the singer, though. As he gathered the group of grateful fans around him for the final chorus, Matt used the opportunity to sneak his arm around the boy. He was rewarded with a single gasp, breathed hotly into his bare shoulder rather than worded, and a smile the size of the Grand Canyon. 

While everyone else clapped and waved for the cameras, the boy stayed by his side. Matt thanked the audience. He promised them they would return soon. The, with a last bow to the crowd, the singer finally turned to face the blond, unabashed interest clear on his face. 

“That was a blast, wasn’t it?” he asked, stretching his arms over his head to ease some of the tension. 

“It was…” the blond gulped, his eyes fixed somewhere between Matt’s shoulder and his neck, before travelling back up to find the singer smirking at him. “...Amazing. Thanks for letting us come on stage for this.”

“Don’t mention it. Listen, how old are you?” 

The boy frowned, unsure of the purpose of the question. “I’m nineteen, sir.” He giggled at formal address and amended. “Matthew.”

“Do you wanna stick around for the after party or do you have a girlfriend you have to return to?”

Grand-Canyon-Smile’s face lit up, something Matt thought was impossible under the bright spotlights on stage, and he hastened to speak. “I’d love to stay. No girlfriend, no.”

“Excellent,” replied Matt, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. “Martin over there‘s our tour manager. He’ll take care of you until I come back.”

“I’m Dominic, by the way.”

“Dominic…” The singer eyed him up and down, as if deciding if the name fit him or not. “It’s a pleasure to meet you indeed,” he drawled lazily.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt was just about to step into the shower cubicle, when voices rang just outside his trailer.

“You’re not supposed to be here. This is a restricted area.” Must have been a security guard, the authority in his tone clear. Who was he questioning, though?

A younger voice replied, shy and obliging. “It’s okay. Look, see.” There was a little pause while the speaker demonstrated his point. “I’ve got a backstage pass, I’m just…”

The trailer door swung open and both the security guard and the boy flinched as Matt confirmed, “He’s alright. Dominic’s with me.”

“Of course, Mr. Bellamy. Sir,” the guard addressed the boy, respectfully, “have a nice evening!”

The boy’s eyes found Matt, the departure of the guard unnoticed by either one of them, and a wave of heat hit the singer so forcefully that his knees turned the consistency of jelly. Surely, the chilly night air on his damp skin was to blame for his hardening nipples, and not the boy staring at him.

“Why didn’t you stay at the party?” Matt asked, breaking the heavy silence.

As if remembering himself, Dominic slapped a hand over his mouth and groaned. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. After all, you invited me… The party was great, the best after party I’ve ever been to. The only after party I’ve ever been to, actually!” His smile returned after the short bout of panic. “The free booze? ’twas a nice touch, but…”

“But what?” prompted Matt, still standing in the doorway, still shirtless.

“Umm…”

“Yes, Dominic?” Matt asked again, cocking an eyebrow. Even in the darkness, the singer noticed the furious blush beginning to stain the boy’s neck. Seeing the boy flustered was so entertaining.

Scratching a hand through his hair, his other hand buried into his jeans pocket, Dominic took the tiniest step onto the stair leading to the trailer door.

“This is going to sound lame, I know, but…you weren’t there,” he concluded simply.

Matt threw his head back to laugh. This was going great, so much better than he anticipated. He didn’t feel cheated out of the hunt, not at all, and the prey had just handed itself to him on a platter.

“I told you I was coming back. I just wanted to take a quick shower.” His open palm swept up and down his body to show exactly what he meant. “Tell you what. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be right there.”

He moved to close the door to his trailer, but didn’t get to go through with the action. The boy quickly climbed the rest of the stairs and stopped within an arm’s distance.

“Don’t go…” he mouthed quietly. Even though those luscious lips had definitely moved, Matt thought he had imagined the words. He narrowly avoided the embarrassment of picking his jaw off the floor, when Dominic repeated the soft whisper. “Don’t go yet…”

The way he caught and sucked his bottom lip between his teeth was suddenly the most erotic thing the singer had witnessed in many, many months. He was only able to scoot back into his trailer and open the door wider in a silent invite.

“I’m sorry, I must seem so pushy, but I feel like I’m wasting such an opportunity here…” Dominic stepped inside, the words tumbling out at high speed.

“Slow down,” Matt interjected, slightly confused, hoping they were still on the same page.

“No, I can’t slow down.” Dominic shook his head, turning to face him fully. “If I do, I might never have the courage to do this…”

“This…?”

The singer’s eyebrows shot up, still sensing a big misunderstanding looming just outside the door. Before he had a chance to finish the question, his hands, his lips and his whole body were busy responding to Dominic’s embrace, the boy’s mouth hesitating for a brief moment before closing on Matt’s own. The faint taste of a cigarette still lingered under the aroma of breath mints; the lips felt just as delicious kissing him as he had imagined, and Dominic’s tongue, well, Dominic’s tongue was slipping inside his mouth again and again, searching for Matt’s own tongue, erasing any other thoughts in the singer’s head.

“Yes, this!” Dominic breathed against his ear, as they broke apart, his panting slowly becoming a barely-there moan.

With a sudden flare of initiative, Matt flipped the boy hard against the door, switching their places and causing the trailer to wobble with the force of impact. He grinned. “Don’t worry, darling, we would have come to this sooner or later.”

He walked them backwards, aiming for the couch, but stopping as his back hit the paneling of the wall that hid his closet. Dominic ground into him and bit into his skin just above the collarbone, and Matt forgot that they were supposed to get more comfortable. He brought the boy’s face back up to him, kissing him hard, his hunger no longer at bay. Dominic’s hands caressed the sides of his body, the smooth plane of his belly, before they found the purple band of Matt’s underwear and the front of his skinnies.

Pulling away to smile briefly at the singer, Dominic continued kissing along Matt’s neck, across his chest, swirling his tongue for a taste of his belly button – making the singer’s head snap back and hit the wood panelling hard – and landed on his knees in front of him, his position unmistakable.

Matt blinked hard to help focus his thoughts as Dominic’s fingers finally moved to unbutton his trousers, pulling the zipper down slowly, sneaking a quick feel through the opening of his boxers. Dominic laughed at the way Matt’s head hung forward, watching as the skinnies were eventually peeled down his legs.

His finger pried Dominic’s mouth open, pushing beneath his tongue, feeling the boy’s hot breath skim over his hand. His thumb slipped out to swipe along the boy’s bottom lip, a trail of saliva in its wake. The grey eyes looking up to him struggled to stay open and watch, but held no shame, just unmasked desire.

Matt’s hands fell to his sides, balling up to reign in his animalistic impulses, as the gorgeous mouth descended on his cock in a hot kiss. He tensed up as the plump lips stretched to take the head inside, the briefest scratch of teeth making him jolt as Dominic adjusted to his size.

The first suck was excruciatingly slow, the boy’s tongue licking the underside of his cock and learning every ridge and vein as he went along. Something about the way he took Matt in, the gaze which spoke of lust, and admiration on his face, made the singer lose himself into the sensations. Content with that reaction, Dominic held the base of his cock gently and continued to alternate licks with sucks, and more licks, and more sucks.

Shivers settling at the base of his spine, Matt allowed himself to run his fingers through the boy’s hair, feeling the patch above the nape of his neck where sweat just started to gather again. As Matt caressed him slowly, focusing on the up and down movement of the pink, moist lips along his shaft, Dominic’s hand sneaked behind him to grip his arse.

Oh yes, encouragement shone in Dominic’s eyes, Matt saw it. Hands now either side of Dominic’s face, he pushed the boy forward until his face buried between his legs. The boy’s nose brushed over his groin and his breathing tickled Matt’s skin. The singer lifted his hips more forcefully, sliding his cock deeper into Dominic’s welcoming mouth. The boy stilled, letting Matt take the lead, simply running his hands down his thighs, squeezing tightly each time Matt’s cock hit the back of his throat.

When the singer’s eyes rolled in his head, he dropped his arse back on the small wooden ledge.

“Dominic, stop,” he rasped, voice hitching over the last word. The boy continued to twirl and swipe his tongue over his slit, without appearing to have heard him.

“Stop, please...” Matt reached down and caught the boy’s chin between his fingers, forcing his eyes up.

“Why do you want us to stop?” Dominic asked, confusion and hurt briefly flashing on his face.

Matt laughed, allaying Dominic’s fear.

“I don’t want us to stop. Your mouth is so wicked and divine that I could go on for days. I don’t want to finish yet though,” he smirked at Dominic’s blush. The fact that the boy, naked and splendid between his legs, a small blob of precome still smeared under his bottom lip, could still blush triggered a wave of tenderness in the singer.

“Come up here,” he urged Dominic. He scooped him up, molding the lithe, tanned body to his own, letting his hands cup Dominic’s arse. “I haven’t had enough of you yet, Dominic,” he whispered before sucking his swollen lips into a wet kiss. His taste and Dominic’s taste were a good combination, he decided, as his tongue explored each recess of the boy’s mouth.

A last squeeze of that lovely arse and his right hand moved to Dominic’s front, finding his neglected erection.

“Turn around,” he panted between a teasing flick of his tongue in Dominic’s ear and a hard bite to his earlobe. From one of the drawers of the closet, he pulled a small vanity case and started rummaging through the contents.

The boy obeyed, eyes ablaze with lust, but lowered himself just enough to make sure Matt’s cock was trapped between their bodies, above his arse. He grinded into him a couple of times, feeling the length of Matt’s cock run between his cheeks.

“Behave, you naughty boy,” Matt growled and slapped Dominic’s arse playfully.

An answering growl ripped from the boy’s throat, and he turned his head slightly to ask. “Or what?”

“Cheeky,” Matt warned, but a smile warmed his tone. He waved the small packet in front of Dominic’s eyes. “Or I won’t be able to put this condom on and fuck you properly. Need more punishment than that?”

He slicked his fingers quickly with lube, a travel-size inconspicuous-looking tube buried in his vanity case, and slipped them between their bodies. He stretched the boy’s arse with his long fingers, confident of his moves, knowing the exact time the boy would be ready for him. As he pushed inside, cock throbbing with the need to possess, over the tight entrance and into the heat of the pliant body beneath him, the boy exhaled through his nose, each breath opening him further to Matt’s advances.

“Your skin shines so golden, Dominic.” Buried fully inside the boy, Matt held still, moving his hands to caress the boy’s back instead. He ran his fingernails lightly across that glorious expanse of flesh, feeling how the boy’s body started to twitch and squeeze around his cock.

“You’re beautiful, and you’re weeping for me,” he added, as one of his hands found Dominic’s cock moist with precome.

With no further warning, Matt pulled out and then slammed back inside the boy’s body, once, two times, until time gained a new meaning, counted by the rhythm of their fucking. Each of his thrusts was greeted with a delicious moan from Dominic, the sounds unlike anything he’d heard before. Each of his moves coaxed Dominic into pushing himself deeper on Matt’s cock, as if his body wanted to swallow him whole. Reaching deeper and deeper inside of his body, Matt watched as the boy shivered each time his cock brushed his spot.

Pressure gathered at the bottom of Matt’s spine, urgent and demanding, but still he hadn’t had enough of Dominic. Gripping his shoulder with one hand, and his hip with the other, Matt almost carried Dominic across the landing, their bodies still fused together. Matt pushed him into the leather seat.  
Two more hard thrusts into the whimpering body underneath him, and he pulled out of the boy’s arse. Matt took his condom off and threw it aside carelessly. Sweat came down in little steams along the boy’s spine, and Matt lowered his mouth briefly to bit into his shoulder.

“Beautiful,” he repeated, licking quickly over his teeth marks.

His cock twitched at the salty taste of Dominic’s skin and reminded him that his release was near. Matt corkscrewed one hand around his tightening cock, gripping the boy’s hip the entire time, holding him flush against his lower body. He smirked when he noticed Dominic reaching between his legs to touch himself. The sight made him lightheaded and his orgasm hit with unexpected fury. Matt gasped as two hot spurts of come shot on the blonde’s back, glistening milky white on the tanned skin stretched beneath him.

Ignoring the way his legs nearly bucked after his searing orgasm, he reached under the boy, knocking his hand aside and pumping his cock. With a dirty afterthought, he scooped up a bit of come with two fingers of his right hand and rammed them inside Dominic’s arse.

The boy’s knees gave out, but not before he screamed. “Holy motherfucking cunting shit! Matthew!”

Matt held him up, pushing him further into the seat until Dominic’s knees perched on the edge of the sofa and his arse stuck even higher into the air. The boy propped an arm against the backrest of the sofa, the other slapping several times against the tinted glass of the trailer’s window. Neither one of Matt’s hands broke their insane rhythm, one stroking Dominic’s plump cock, the other driving inside of him, slick fingers in search of his prostate.

Matt knew he’d found it when the blonde writhed and pushed back against his hand, howling in pleasure. The hand he held on Dominic’s cock sped up and his fingers scissored in an upward motion, a slow thrust followed by a violent one, and another slow thrust, until Dominic came, howling one last time in release.

They both collapsed on the leather couch, Dominic’s come dripping slowly down the backrest.

“That was good,” Matt commented. He felt a strange need to somehow fill the silence with words.

“Are you kidding?” Dom sputtered, eyes closed, but an ecstatic smile still very much in place. “That was brilliant, amazing, and incredible. The best fuck of my life!”

“Flatterer,” shot Matt back. “I’m a rock star. I’m your idol.” He gestured to himself, the statement not enough to prove his point. “You’ve been drooling over me for years. Of course you’d say that!”

Dominic forced his body straight, and then turned towards the singer. “I’m not. Lying, I mean!” He reached out to wipe some of the smudged liner from the corner of one of Matt’s eyes. “Yes, I’ve had a crush on you ever since I understood what a boner really is. I’ve loved you with red hair.” His fingers tiptoed to stroke the skin of Matt’s inner thigh. “I adored you with blue hair, and meeting you tonight was probably the most exciting moment of my life. But I wouldn’t lie to you. You were incredible, you felt incredible… inside of me, in my mouth, in my arse. You were the best fuck of my life.”

“Yeah,” Matt closed his eyes and enjoyed Dominic’s touch on his cooling skin. “You were pretty incredible yourself.”

The boy’s fingers didn’t stop, but instead he lifted himself and climbed into Matt’s lap. He leaned in and, wide-eyed and mischievous, licked Matt’s lips just once. “So, if we’re in agreement… when can we do it again?”


End file.
